


Leaving and Returning

by Archaic_Legend



Series: A Champion and A Knight Captain [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age - Various Authors, Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Anders Dies, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Reconciliation, Shameless Smut, Smut, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-17
Updated: 2016-07-17
Packaged: 2018-07-24 14:35:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7512016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Archaic_Legend/pseuds/Archaic_Legend
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hawke and Cullen spend one night together before she has to leave Kirkwall for good, never to see each other again. Four years later Hawke is in Skyhold with someone in tow...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Leaving and Returning

Firelight flickered across her as she sat in the darkened room. She was beyond exhausted, her mana had been drained to dangerous levels, her body pushed beyond limits but still she couldn't sleep. Dislocated moments kept swimming through her mind. She took another swig from the bottle of brandy she had extracted from the cellar. She could still see him in lying on the cold gallows stones his beautiful healers hands twisted and broken, golden hair darkening in a halo of dark blood. It had been her duty to deliver the final blow. He had been a friend and healer to them all, a lover to her, for a time. He knew why she couldn’t side with the first enchanter, he had known what Orsino had done and yet he had still forced the decision. Anders had been there when they found the letters between Orsino and Quentin, seen the result of their “arrangement” seen what Quentin had done to her mother. She drank again, trying to let the burn of the bandy destroy the memory, but instead it shifted. He had fallen against the wall his torso propped up against one of the decorative stone designs, the glow of justice flickered and died. e had looked at her then with his beautiful golden brown eyes and had reached to her, she had come. She had knelt beside him.

“Anders … I.."

“Marian,” he interrupted softly, the use of her given name bringing her short in a way nothing else could. “I knew what I was doing. I knew the cost. I am willing to pay it.” The pain was so acute it was if he was shredding her soul. She could have sworn she could feel tears scorch their way down her face, anger, frustration, pain and maker take him love, but her face was dry her jaw set. “I am truly sorry about what happened between us.” He coughed and winced. “Please Hawke.” She knew what he was asking.

“I.."

“You can… and you must.” Clumsily he tugged the dagger from her belt his hands lacking the grace they usually possessed. She had kissed him them, sliding the blade in, he had sighed against her lips. It was a wistful almost happy sound, and then he was gone. She took in more of the brandy and stared at the shelved a head of her. She was dwelling, on what could have been, she forced herself to remember what had been. They had argued a lot the days after her mother’s death, their final argument was when it had all started to go wrong.

“Freedom is a privileged not a right!” she had yelled at him 

“You can’t honestly believe that. You are a mage."

“I am fully aware of that Anders!” Turning to the library door she pointed towards her mothers room. "If nothing else the fact that a Quentin was helped in his “research" by the first enchanter only proves the fact that not all mages can handle the responsibility of freedom."

“Quentin was a mad man.” 

“But the First Enchanter isn’t he knew what the man was doing and exploited the man's madness for his own gain."

“Or he could have been terrified that the insane knight commander would make him tranquil for even knowing the man."

“So that justifies him letting innocent women be defiled?"

“One mage’s crimes doesn’t make all mages guilty."

“You don’t get it do you? How many times have we gone in to save some mage or group of mages that have then turn to blood magic?”

“They were desperate!"

“That doesn’t excuse it."

“Of course it doesn’t, but what choice do they have?"

“Just say no!"

“It is not that simple."

“Yes it is! And that is why we need the templars because mages are convinced that there is some justification for the terrible things they do.” It was then that the Knight Captain made his unfortunately timed entrance. He was there to offer his official condolences and to report on the investigation, she found out later, but when Anders saw him Justice took over. Marian dived throwing a shied up between them. Unfortunately Cullen had reacted on instinct. His smite hit her shattering her shied just as Justice’s lightning bolt hit. She was flung back and crashed against the bookshelves. Pain exploded white hot through her whole body, but she had to stop this. 

“You!” Justice’s eerie voice crashed through the room. “You templars are all the same. Did you think I didn’t notice the way you look at her?” Cullen said nothing but picked up his shield. “Sniffing after her robes as if she were a bitch in heat.”

She pulled herself up her body screaming in agony,  _‘Just put one foot in front of the other'._

“Abomination you have no hold over me."

“I am no demon!” Justice’s hand began to glow, raw mana manifesting.  The smite had taken all her mana but she planted herself between them. Justice’s eyes narrowed at her, his aim shifting just slightly.

“And you...You have stood in the way of the Justice this world deserves for long enough."

“Hawke out of the way, it is an abomination!” Hawke shook her head.

“Anders Stop!” She saw justice’s blue flicker. “Please."

“Move aside Champion."

“No!” A gauntleted hand grabbed her arm. She saw the power leave Justice’s hand just as Anders regained control. She spun putting her chest to chest with Cullen, pulling on reserves she knew she shouldn’t she put up a shield. This was going to hurt. The Power crashed into her and the shield shattered. They were thrown back, Cullen landed with a clatter of steel plate. She felt the pain explode within her a blinding agony.

“Maker No!” She heard Anders' scream and then it had all gone black. When she came too it was Cullen that was tending to her injuries. Anders’ it seemed had taken care of their life threatening ones as they were passed out then, disappeared without a word. It had been almost a year since then, he vanished into the underground without a trace. She did what she could to support the clinic with supplies and semi-regular visits to heal the more serious cases, but he was gone. Of course she wanted mages to be able to live freely but violence was not the answer, it had been one of the constant sticking points between them. She had loved Anders, but in their case love was not enough. She took another swig her mind returning to the most painful of memories. He had done the unforgivable, but it was only after they left the gallows did she fully appreciate the breadth of the destruction that his vengeance had caused. There seemed to be no end to the bodies. There was nothing to do but dig, heal or burry. Face after dusty tear stained face became a blur. None of her companions said a word as they pulled fallen masonry off elderly men or shards of glass out of the arms and faces of children. They merely worked side by side, lifting beams, tearing clean rags for bandages, handing her lyrium potions as her mana flagged. She stared down at the pink newly healed flesh of her hands. It was only after she had  torn the flesh so badly she could barely mover her fingers that Varric forced her to stop. Merrill had gingerly healed the torn skin before they dragged her home to rest. She could still hear the screams, intermingled with the quiet moans and wailing in the distance. Orana had managed to get her to change but her skin was still covered in a layer of grit that only a long soak would remove. She sank further back into the soft couch and eyed the mismatched bedding on the floor. Her room and much of the upper level had been destroyed by huge chunk of flying chantry. Bodahn and Orana had done what they could putting together a place for her to sleep. There were so many pillows and blankets it made the room look like a harem. She smiled to herself, Isabella would have loved it. They had even pulled up the large double bath and filled it with water. It sat in the corner steaming heated by one of Sandal's  runes. She looked at her blood and dirt covered arms, what more could she have done. She had tried to stop him, refused to play along with his mysterious schemes but it hadn't helped. The crunch of heavy footsteps echoed from the entryway. She sprung up grabbing the knife from her boot. Her mana may have been depleted but she could still fight. In fact her body screamed for it. Screamed for something to mask the pain she was feeling. A figure in full plate moved into the doorway, his sword barely raised. 

“Marian?” his voice cracked as he took a shaking step forward. That familiar comforting Fereldan accent cut her to the quick.

“Cullen?” Disbelief had her stuck to the spot, she could not move. The last time they had spoken they said it would be the last. It was too dangerous.  

“I …. I ….” His sword clattered to the ground he looked as exhausted as she felt. “You are the only person I wanted to be with…. In all this… I wanted ….. I….” He ran his hand through his hair tugging at it frustratedly. “Andraste's Sword! You almost….” And something inside her snapped, all the twisted emotions inside her solidified into a single desire. Her feet propelled her forward and then she was there, she grasped his face in her hands and kissed him. It was a desperate hungry thing, need driving away everything else. He groaned into her mouth, his hands grasping her hips with a fierce urgency that had her blood running hot. Their tongues danced with an almost violent intensity. She want to feel him. To  finally run her hands along his skin to know he was truly alive and unharmed. Between kisses he tugged off his gauntlets and she worked on his plate. Some how they managed it and her hands finally found his heated flesh. He sighed in pleasure as she kissed her way along his jaw her hands sliding up his back. He tugged at her robe, it parted and she hummed in pleasure as his hands slid across her skin. They traveled slowly upwards calloused palms relearning the lines of her body. He groaned softly as he cupped her bountiful breasts, the silken flesh barely contained by his large hands. Desire shot from her breasts to her cunt as his thumbs brushed her nipples. She bowed into his touch and he lowered his mouth to her breast. The brush of his stubble against her tight nipples sent sparks of desire through her body. She gasped as his soft lips closed around them, his tongue spilling her mind into a fevered haze. She moaned and he released her nipple his mouth in a playful half smile. Her desire throbbed with a gnawing insistence. She grasped his face kissing him with all her might and he pulled her against his chest. The feeling of skin on skin was electric she shifted her kisses to his neck. She could taste the salt and ash on his skin, the acrid scent of magic seared air clinging to his hair.  Her tongue slid across a particularly sensitive point below his ear and he shuddered a groan bubbling up from his chest. 

"Cullen," she breathed, then chuckled. "While I want to ride you till you praise the Maker's name a hundred times over. I think we both need a bath." He straightened a small lopsided grin appearing on his weary face. Gently he brushed her hair out of her eyes, tucking it carefully behind one ear and chuckled.

"You are probably right.” She tilted her head toward the bath in the corner and gave him a teasing smile.

“You are welcome to join me.” She turned, and made her way towards the bath. Failing to hear the moment of his metal clad feet she languidly she stripped off her robe, letting it fall in a crumpled heap on the floor. Cullen’s breath hissed, "Maker's breath.” The hasty rustling of fabric behind her made her smile. With a grin she leant seductively over to test the water, her naked backside raised. She didn't hear him move but the light brush of his fingers on her arse made her shiver. Then she felt it the ghost of his touch against her quim and she stifled a moan. Tension hung in the air as she held her body still waiting to see what he would do. He traced her slit his fingers gliding against the dampening folds. Hesitantly he dipped his finger in to circle her clit. She moaned tilting her arse higher in the air to give him better access. He groaned, his deft finger began stroking her. She shuddered pleasure building, he slid a finger into her and she moaned. Continuing his pressure on her clit he began to drive her into a frenzy. She could feel the pleasure mounting but she wanted more.

"Cullen please," she begged her body shaking. Grasping his length he slid slowly into her. She gasped as he filled her. "Maker!" She moaned pushing herself hard against him, driving him so deep it made her toes curl. He grunted his hands clamping on her hips. Withdrawing with almost torturously slowly he, slid back in with a long powerful thrust. He set an almost languorous pace. His clever fingers continued to work her, brining her to the edge of release over and over until she was cursing in frustration. When she didn't think she could take anymore, he began to fuck her with a vigorous abandon, his own well honed control snapping. The slap of flesh on flesh echoed through the room.

"Touch yourself," he ordered his voice gruff. She moved a hand to her clit where she began to stroke. She moaned as he circled a finger around her puckered rear opening. Dipping his finger between her legs he lubricated it and began to massage the tight ring. She was stretched taught, the feel of his cock and the tantalizing rub of his finger stretching her tighter. Gasping and moaning she could feel herself unraveling. As he slid the finger in, she did. Slamming back hard against him the wave crested. He released a roar thrusting hard as he joined her, his cock jerking deliciously within her. She let her head fall against the bath rim panting. His hand stayed clamped firmly to her hip, but wether it was to hold her or himself up she could not guess. When their breathing had returned to normal he withdrew holding his hand out to her.

"I think you suggested a bath," she grinned taking his hand as she carefully climbed into the tub. She sighed as the warm water enveloped her. He climbed in behind her and pulled her against him his arms curling about her protectively. They were silent for a time letting the warm water begin to leach the ache from their exhausted muscles.  After a time Cullen picked up the cloth and soap and began to gently clean the grime from her skin. The cloth rasped deliciously against her flesh kindling her desire. When he was done she took the cloth and began the process on him. Her fingers traced the pale lines of old scars. Tracing a scar along his side he jumped his hand coming up to capture hers. She caught the look of weary amusement on his face.

"Why Ser Cullen are you ticklish?"  He pulled her against him sloshing water over the edge. When their lips met this time there was an aching tenderness to it. The desire was still there but it was eclipsed by something more. She curled up to sit in his lap her hands toying with the dampened curls that were beginning to form at the nape of his neck. 

"I'll have to leave you know," she said quietly. His arms tightened about her his lips brushing her forehead.

"I know," he said quietly. They both new that if she stayed in the city the risk of the Divine sending an exalted March was far too high. Her heart ached and for the first time since it all began her tears fell. Tilting her head to his their lips met. His kiss was deep, his tongue stroking hers with a slow burning tenderness. Her hands slid across his body, memorizing the feel of his skin against hers. She shifted so she was facing him giving her hands access to the rest of him. He hummed in pleasure his own hands coming up to cup her breasts again. His touch was slow and reverent tracing  every inch of her body. He pressed tiny kisses against her throat. Gently rasping the juncture between her neck and shoulder with small bites.  She could feel his errection trapped beneath her pressing against her clit. She wanted to feel him again, but she also wanted to take her time with it. prying herself away she stood clambering to of the bath. He made a small displeased sound but she smiled at him holding out her hand. 

“Come Knight-Captain, let me take you to bed.” He took her hand climbing out of the tub. He was a beautiful sight. Grabbing a towel she moved forward dragging it across his skin, he stayed still but his eyes watched her with a heating intensity. Kneeling before him she dried one leg and then the other pausing at his phallus. Looking up at him through her lashes she took him slowly into her mouth. He groaned his hands gripping the side of the bath. Her tongue traced the vein on the underside before swirling around the sensitive tip. He shuddered, his hips thrusting reflexively. She hummed against him taking him deep into her throat. He began to thrust his hips jerking against her even as he tried to resist. She could feel the tension in him coiling, he began to pull away.

“Marian," he gasped. “I’m.” She gasped his are and pulled him deep. He swore and came hard. She swallowed drinking him down, she could taste the sharp tang of lyrium and his own slightly bitter flavor. when the last of his spasms had finished she stood, planting a kiss on the head of his now softening cock as she did so. He pulled her against him and kissed her an almost boyish smile on his face. “Makers breath woman, you will be the death of me.” He kissed her tenderly his tongue sweeping against hers tasting the remnants of his own pleasure. He pulled her to the pile of bedding and motioned for her to lie down. “Lie on your belly.” He said moving back to the bath. She did so groaning as her muscles finally began to unwind. She heard him come back then felt him kneel over her hips. She smelt the familiar sent of her rosemary bath oil and then his hands began to rub her muscles. She sighed as his oiled hands began kneading her muscles . His skillful hands  made their way down her body, carefully avoiding her most sensitive areas until he had worked out every knot. “Roll over,” his voice was soft and she turned. Slowly he worked his way down the front of her body, this time with lips and tongue. She moaned as his mouth found her breast. He took his time with them, moving from one to the other until she was gasping with desire. Slowly he moved lower. By the time his breath grazed her nether lips her entire body was over sensitized screaming for his touch. He shifted her legs apart, hooking one leg over his shoulder. His breath caressed her damp folds and she shivered at the coolness against her over heated flesh. “Maker! I have missed this,” he murmured. He looked up at her, his golden eyes locked with her green ones. Her chest grew tight at the love and ache in his eyes, one day a man like him would be able to love a woman like her and the world would not tear them apart. At the first stroke of his tongue she sighed in pleasure. Cullen took his time memorizing the taste and the smell of her, each mew of pleasure, each roll of her hips. For the first time since their ill-advised liaison began, he allowed himself to get truly lost in her. He felt her hand tug on his hair.

“Cullen.” He lifted his head. She was a vision dark hair in a tousled hallow, cheeks flushed with pleasure. Calloused finger tips rasped against his cheek, he kissed her palm. He loved her hands. They were fighters hand, lovers hands, passionate and furious. She held her arms open in invitation. He slowly kissed his way up her body until his aching cock brushed against her curls. Wrapping her legs around him she urged him forward. He slid into her slowly her ankles pressing him in. He groaned a low deep sound his lips meeting hers for a long slow kiss. They stilled, joined as one their breath mingling. He began to move slowly her body moving in time with his. They looked at each other as they moved, burning into memory what could be. Smirking at him she flipped them over, settling herself on top. He marveled at her rising above him, his warrior queen. She rode him slowly her breasts rising and falling as she did so. He ran his hands up her body cupping them. He moaned as he stroked her nipples her cunt clenching around him sending shockwaves of pleasure up his spine. She began to move faster, her lip caught between her teeth.  Shifting he sat up his lips capturing hers and they rocked together. She began to move faster, stars began to explode behind her eyes. Kissing him deeply she began to shudder, small sparks of magic ran across her skin and along her inner walls. He cried out pulling her hard against him and the world exploded around him.

“MAKER!” She cried out his name her lips slamming against his. They clung to each other as aftershocks shook them. Cullen collapsed sideways taking her with him. 

“I … I lo—“ she pressed her fingers to his lips. 

“And I you.... But please don't say it. I don't think I could leave if you do."

"Marian." He pressed his forehead to hers. Her name on his lips said it all. She knew they loved each other, so much it hurt. So much that they had agreed to stay apart so that neither of them ended up facing Meredith's sword. The last six months had been torturous to see each other from afair, to pretend indifference or distain. She stroked his face, curling up against him. 

"I hope one day we can--" now it was his turn to silence her.

"Shhhh...no plans.... I want to hold you in my arms as I sleep, to know that I have managed one night with the woman I l... With you. Nothing can change that, no matter what the future brings."

 

 

_***** Skyhold four years later *****_

 

 

He lent against his desk reading the familiar writing for the hundredth time .

_“Cullen,_

_At first I couldn’t write because the seekers and the chantry were looking for me and I didn’t want to put you at risk. Then the war came and Varric told me not to write, it was too risky. There is so much that I wanted to tell you, so many important things that need to be said. It looks like the Maker is finally granting me that chance. I will be visiting Skyhold shortly, at Varric’s insistence. It appears that an old ‘friend’ of ours is causing trouble again. I hope you can forgive my silence these past four years._

_Yours always,_

_Marian"_  

The letter had arrived a month ago. She would be arriving any day now, at least that is what Varric had told him. He had often wondered with an aching longing where she had gone, but after the press Cassandra had put on Varric he did’t want to risk asking. He knew that Varric knew where she was or at the very least how to contact her, but what could he say that would convince the dwarf to send a missive, they had kept the whole thing a secret. Then what would he say to her I miss you? I love you? please come back to me? With, demons, dragons and ancient magisters behind every door he could not, would not, put her at risk. And then there was the lyrium, she would know, as soon as she saw him she would know. He felt a twinge of guilt, he ad ached for her every night but still she had been through enough. He put the letter down in frustration, and closed his eyes repeating the prayer of transfigurations, centering his mind. He had almost reached his settled equilibrium when the door opened and the dwarf stepped in.

“Marian?” He asked his voice sounding far more unstrung than he would have liked.

“She is here.” Varric nodded. Cullen moved from behind his desk to stand beside the Varric. Varric gave him a measuring look, his face was somber but they way he looked at him Cullen could feel something in the regard had shifted. “Before you say anything Curly give her a chance to explain.” Cullen frowned. “And before you ask I only found out this morning, I didn’t even know….” He shook his head, 

“What are you…” Then he saw her through the open doorway. The achingly familiar shiloette on the battlements walking towards his tower, the form was so recognizable it made his heart ache. He grasped the side of the desk in a white knuckled grip. The feeling of the wood beneath his fingertips kept him grounded as he tried to comprehend what he was seeing. There was some one small walking beside her. His his first thought was Varric but no he was next to him , shooting him wary sympathetic looks. Dagna? ... No it was a child, young girl, with a mop of curly dark blonde hair. The child was holding Marian's hand skipping and laughing. Marian picked the girl up and swung her around, the child squealed in delight. 

"When are we going to see papa?" He heard the shrill child's voice as clear as a bell. 

Marian murmured something to the child and looked up at his tower. He watched their achingly slow progression, his mind fumbling at the reality. He felt Varric's hand pat his arm and the reality set in. Marian had had a child. Now that he was closer he could see, there was no mistaking the resemblance. He couldn't breathe, his heart felt full swelling to bursting. His eyes darted from the small vision to Marrian as she entered. Her body was taught, tension radiated from her.

"Marian." Her name came out as a prayer, a hope. 

"Cullen," she said his name softly as if she said it too loud he would disappears. "May I introduce Bethany." She took a deep breath steeling herself. "Your daughter." He was stunned, he knelt down to the small girl who had come forward inquisitively. Small delicate hands touched his face, then she frowned.

"Mummy said my hair was like yours, but it isn't.... Why not?" He chuckled.

"It most certainly is like mine." He said touching one of the golden curls. She patted the top of his head and grimaced. 

“Your's feels funny." He laughed an unfettered wondering sound, marveling at the perfect blending of himself and Marian standing before him.  She had his nose but Marian's scowl, which she was using to good effect.

"I'll wash it out and show you later if you would like." She considered for a moment, her teeth gnawing on her lower lip a perfect mirror of her mother, then she nodded.Warily crooked a conspiratorial finger, he tilted his head down to hers and she moved to whisper in his ear.

"Can I hug you?" She said in a small voice. He moved back slightly to look in wonder at this small being. He could see a small blush rise to her cheeks and she shifted "I have never had a papa before .. I… I...." Tears stung his eyes, he blinked rapidly and nodded opening his arms to her his chest tight. He couldn’t speak. Small arms curled around his neck and he held her. She was so small and delicate. He should be angry he knew, Marian should have told him, but holding Bethany he knew why. He knew there was  nothing more precious than this tiny golden haired creature. He looked up at Marian her eyes were wide and glittering with tears. He smiled up at her trying to convey his love, appreciation and understanding in one simple gesture.

"From now on little Beth, you will always have one. Is that ok with you?"

"I think I would like that," she murmured against his neck. 

"And you?" His eyes held Marian's, the tears were working their way down her face as she beamed at him.

"I would like that very much.”

**Author's Note:**

> This will be part of a series of one shots and random smuttiness between Hawke and Cullen because Head cannons FTW! :)


End file.
